


This One Reason

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Season 11, mpreg!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:05:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6128577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a reason he doesn't want Sam to go looking for Lucifer in the Cage. He's just not sure how Sam is going to react.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This One Reason

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just a little something I had hanging around on my laptop that I decided to finish out and post because what better reason for Dean not to want to lose Sam to the Cage again, really? :)

'Dean, it's the only way.' 

Sam planted his hands flat on the table and leaned across, urgent and impatient, invading his brother's space. Dean avoided his gaze, the one that was begging Dean to understand, to let _Sam_ be the one to make the sacrifice for once, because Christ! It wasn't as if Dean hadn't been getting the short end of the stick for way too damn long as far as Sam was concerned.

But Dean wasn't having it. His lips were pressed into a hard, thin line, and his hands were clasped oddly across his middle, pressing in as he leaned back in the chair. Sam would have thought it was strange if he'd been focusing on it enough, because Dean was always one to come right back at him, never be cornered, push when pushed.

'No, Sam. Just. No.' 

Sam slapped the table. 'Dean, if I don't—' 

'Sam, how do you know?' Dean asked, finally looking up at his brother, but his posture stayed reserved, defensive. 'How do you even know that your visions are coming from God?' 

Sam straightened up, frowning at Dean like this should be obvious. 'I prayed, Dean, and that's when they started.' 

'They started after you got yourself infected with a demon virus.' Dean jabbed a finger at him. 'And even if they _are_ in response to your prayers, you know what, Sammy—' 

'Sam.' 

'—any damn angel can hear you pray,' Dean continued, completely ignoring Sam's automatic, age-old correction, 'and since it seems you've conveniently forgotten, let me remind you that Lucifer _is_ actually an angel and where is he? Oh, yeah. that's right...in the Cage!' 

Sam stilled, fingers twitching against his thighs. He hadn't really considered that part. Lucifer was Lucifer. Satan, the Devil, the Dark Prince. That he had once been the Morning Star and right hand of God just never quite stuck in Sam's mind given his past experience. He wasn't going to let it deter him, though.

'But if I don't try, we'll never know, and what if—?'

'No.' Dean's tone was flat, and his eyes dropped back to his hands in his lap.

Sam folded his arms, scowled, and finally said, 'You don't trust me, do you? Is that it?' 

'No, that's not it at all.' 

'Then what?!' 

Dean finally got up, came out of the chair with his fists knotted at his sides. 'Has it occurred to you that I just don't want to risk it? Don't want to risk _you_?' he demanded. 'I don't know if I could survive it, Sammy. Watchin' you do that again. Just going back there of your own free will, to that pit, that torture. Is it not enough for you that I just don't want you to go?' 

Sam stared, a little flabbergasted, arms falling back to his sides. He made a move toward Dean, but Dean stepped back, body held tightly, and Sam finally noticed. Something was off in the way Dean was confronting him, but not.

'Dean, of course it is. I'd expect that, but—' 

'I'm pregnant.' 

It felt for a second like the earth had suddenly rolled over on its axis, throwing Sam's center of gravity so fast and hard that he had to grab at the back of a chair to stay standing. 

'Wh-what...?' he stammered out.

'You need a better reason not to go?' Dean nearly shouted. 'Fine. You got one. I'm pregnant.'  Angry, red eyed, with one hand splayed across his middle, he turned away, enough to hide the broken expression and furious tears until he could get a better handle on himself. Because, _goddamit_ , this whole situation was turning him into a chick.

Sam stared at Dean, still clinging to the chair back, and suddenly it all made an easy kind of sense. Dean's hands hadn't been in his _lap_ , and he hadn't been defensive, he'd been _protective_. He was protecting the life inside him.

'Dean, I... ' Sam choked on his words, shook his head, at a loss. 'Jesus Christ.'

'Didn't have a goddamn thing to do with it,' Dean said with a shaky smirk, turning back to his brother. 'It was all you and me, Sammy.' 

Sam flapped a hand a vaguely between them. 'I thought you were. I mean, you said. You never wanted...' 

'Yeah, well, not like I planned it.' Dean shrugged, uneasy. 'But we weren't exactly paying a whole lot of attention to all the details when the Mark came off.' 

That was true enough, Sam could attest. It had been well over a year since Dean had let Sam touch him like that. They had even started sleeping in separate rooms again because Dean was so afraid of what he might do, even in his sleep, to hurt Sam. So, when the Mark came off, Sam was more than ready to make up for lost time. 

Even with the Darkness blooming out of the ground like some C-rated horror flick, and Death dead—or not, no one could really be sure—and Dean looking banged all to hell but more beautiful than ever with his bright green eyes free of the bloodlust and violence that had lurked for so long in his veins, Sam hadn't been able to contain himself, standing there in the afternoon sunlight of that field he'd found Dean in, face down in the soft grass, light playing over his spiky, mussed, golden hair. 

Sam had gone down on his knees and rolled Dean over in the tall grass and straddled him, weighting his shoulders down so he couldn't move, and devouring his mouth before he could take in enough air to object. He was running high on adrenaline and the knowledge that no good thing that _ever_ came to a Winchester came without a price, and Sam wanted his before the bill came due. Dean had made a token objection, but his clutching hands, tearing at Sam's jacket and shirts, and then his jeans until he was stretched out naked and glowing in the sun between Dean's thighs, belied any objection that made it past his lips. 

Sam fucked his brother hard, slamming into him until Dean hissed and moaned with the burn of it, but he got like for like, squeezing down on Sam's cock inside of him until Sam was gasping and begging to come, crying out as Dean twisted his hips and tightened down until he felt Sam give it up in huge, heavy pulses that scorched this insides with their heat and spilled out of him onto the cool ground below them because there was so much of it.

Condoms had definitely not been the order of business at that moment, nor any of the three times that followed, once more in the field, again in the backseat, and once more bent over the armory in their trunk so that Dean complained about how he'd have to clean up the silver knives before they tarnished from having his come all over them.  
Dean was watching Sam, waiting for some kind of response other than this blank, wordless shock, but when none was forthcoming he rallied with, 'So. I really don't give a damn what you think, or who wants you back in that Cage, or if the whole fucking world explodes tomorrow if you _don't_ go, but you aren't going.'  


Sam shook his head gently and finally found his voice. 'You don't mean that.'  


Dean gave another shrug, this one a slightly uncertain roll of his shoulders, and his gaze blinked out of focus for a moment. 'Maybe I don't, not all of it, but you are not fucking leaving me. Like this.' His voice cracked at the last and it was all he could do to rasp out the next words. 'I am _not_ having our baby without you.'  


Sam's resolve crumbled, like so much sand left to dry in the sun. He came around the table and took Dean by the shoulders and looked at him, really _looked_ at him, because it had been a good three months since the Darkness had escaped and if it had happened then… 

There were circles under Dean's eyes that Sam had attributed to his endless worry over Cas and Amara and this new development of Sam being intent on seeking out Lucifer, but that he now knew was probably worry over how the hell they were going to deal with a baby given the current state of affairs and what the hell right they had bringing a new life into this disaster area they called their own. Dean was paler than usual, too, his freckles standing out starkly now that Sam was paying attention, and while that may just be symptomatic of the onset of winter and Dean's fair complexion, it made more sense to attribute it to the frequent disappearances Dean made to what Sam now highly suspected was the bathroom to lose whatever he'd managed to put in his stomach, which now that Sam thought about it wasn't a whole hell of a lot because while his diet hadn't changed, Dean had been doing a lot more picking at and shuffling of his food around his plate than actual eating of it.

Sam made a wounded little sound in his throat and yanked Dean up against him, burying his nose and mouth in the soft bristle above his ear and folding his arms tight around his shoulders. 

'Where the fuck have I been that I wasn't noticing this?' he murmured brokenly. 

'S okay, Sam,' Dean said, patting his back absently, but Sam could hear the halting catch in his breathing, feel the shudder of relief that this weight was finally out in the open for them to share. 'I was tryin' to keep a lid on it. Didn't want you to worry about me along with everything else.'

'You goddamn _moron_ ,' Sam laughed, but it was hurt and strained. 'After all the years you've spent worrying about my sorry ass?'

'It's my job,' Dean whispered. 

'Let's not even go there,' Sam warned in a low voice.

'Besides, you've been doin' nothing but worry about me and the Mark and now me and Amara, and you—you didn't deserve to have one thing more on your plate, Sammy.'

Sam squeezed him harder and whispered fiercely, 'You mean I didn't need to worry about my own _child_? You think I wouldn't _want_ that above all this other crap we're dealing with?'

Dean hadn't thought of it that way. He really hadn't managed to get his brain fully on board with the idea that there was an actual baby involved here, much less that said baby was a product of both he _and_ Sam. So far all he could comprehend was that he was sick for more hours of the day than not, and there were parts of him becoming distinctly tender and downright sore that he hadn't even realized existed. Not to mention the emotional rollercoaster that had been the most difficult to keep a good handle on whenever Sam was around. But it hit him like a ton of bricks now, how the swell that was just beginning to make his jeans feel uncomfortable, that his palm was finding more and more easily and absently when he was reading, or driving, or staring into space and quietly freaking out over it all, was actually because of a _baby_. His baby. Their baby. Christ…he was _pregnant._

'Dean?' Sam went from confused to concerned in zero-point-two seconds, taking Dean's weight as he slumped a little in his arms and backed him up to a chair. 'Dean, you all right?'

Dean spread his hands across his belly and shook his head, starred up at Sam in apprehensive wonder. 'Sammy…?'

Sam knelt in front of him, mouth twitching toward a smile as he had a feeling just what had happened. He reached out and tentatively covered one of Dean's hands. Dean sucked in a surprised breath, but kept his eyes focused on Sam.

'Sammy, we're…having a baby,' he finally breathed.

Sam nodded slowly. 'Yeah, Dean. We are.'

Dean blinked. 'Holy shit.'

'Yeah,' Sam agreed with a laugh. 

'I mean we're— I didn't really— ' Dean stammered around in search of words, but Sam hushed him with a brush of his lips.

'Yeah, I know, but we are,' he said solemnly, 'and it's going to be okay, Dean. I swear it.'

Dean calmed a little, gnawed on his lip for a second before he finally nodded.  

'Yeah. Yeah, it is.'

 

 


End file.
